Poem for February 5, 2034

A soul as full of worth, as void of pride,

Which nothing seeks to show, or needs to hide,

Which nor to guilt nor fear its caution owes,

And boasts a warmth that from no passion flows.

A face untaught to feign; a judging eye,

That darts severe upon a rising lie,

And strikes a blush through frontless flattery.

All this thou wert; and being this before,

Know, kings and fortune cannot make thee more.

Then scorn to gain a friend by servile ways,

Nor wish to lose a foe these virtues raise;

But candid, free, sincere, as you began,

Proceed--a minister, but still a man.

Be not (exalted to whate'er degree)

Ashamed of any friend, not even of me:

The patriot's plain, but untrod path pursue;

If not, 'tis I must be ashamed of you.